Date: Sun, 23 Feb 2014 08:41:07 +0000
From: Stuart James
Subject: Identity Theft
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Identity Theft
Stealing a great deal of money is not so difficult. Keeping hold of your
ill gotten gains is somewhat harder. I worked for....well let's just call
it a small outpost of a large UK financial firm. Working in a small office,
with few employees, meant that there were less controls in place to stop
the determined thief. Being part of a large firm meant that there was
potentially a lot of money available for any embezzler to liberate. In my
first week in the new posting I mused how easy it would be for me to steal
money from my employer. I even started to prepare a report to head office
to warn them of my concerns.
I suppose I should introduce myself to you. Let's call me John. That's not
the name I was born with. But it will do. I was 27 years old when I was
sent by head office to the distant posting. I was considered to be a bit of
whizz kid which is why I was made manager at such a young age. I was
nothing special. Average height; average weight; average looks. I suppose
average summed me up quite well. But I loved finance and was good at my
job. That meant that I was well paid. And people with money, even when
superficially average, are very attractive to the ladies. So I had lots of
short term girlfriends. Well that's not quite true. I had lots of sex!
I did not mind taking up the distant posting as I had no close family, and
few friends that I could not discard. But frankly I became very bored very
quickly. There was just not enough work to keep my brain occupied. So more
and more my mind returned to thinking about how I could, were I a thief,
steal large amounts of money. Getting the money from my employers accounts,
and through a chain of transfers and into untraceable accounts that I
controlled, was easy. Well easy for someone with my financial skills. But I
could not for long hide the fact that the money had disappeared. My first
thought as to how to keep the money and not get caught was to hide my
involvement. I came up with a way as to how that could be done. If my
employers could not link the theft to me, I could stay out of prison. But
then I could not spend the money. If I ever did, assuming that the company
would keep looking for their cash for all eternity, then I would get
caught. If I could not spend it then why steal it?
The other choice was to disappear with the money. But how was I to do that?
It seemed like an impasse. Then I heard about a criminal part of the
internet. You know that advertise places where you can buy drugs or weapons
or launder money. I tentatively started to explore it. There were plenty of
people advertising fake documents. But how was I to know how good the fakes
were? And I would still look like me. A bad fake passport could mean my
arrest, and when they looked at my fingerprints or other means of
identification they would unmask the real John. I would end up in
prison. For months I kept coming back to this problem. After all it helped
to keep my mind busy. But each time I decided that I could not be certain
to make it work. And if I could not make it work, then nor could anyone
else. So I forgot the idea of making a report to my bosses.
But then something happened that forced my hand. I was sent, either by
error or by someone trying to warn me, a copy of an internal company
document that spelt out plans to change the focus of the firm that would
involve not only closing the outpost I was working in, but would also mean
that a lot of people with my grade and skills would be made redundant. And
although I was good at my work, the jobs market was tight after the
financial crash, and I might find it difficult to get new employment, and
even harder to get a job at the rate of pay I was then enjoying. I could
see poverty staring me in the face. OK I would not exactly be starving. But
poverty is a relative concept. I was used to a very high standard of
living. Anything less looked like destitution to me. According to the
document the plans would be made public and implemented in less than 2
weeks.
I went back to my plans to make myself rich at the expense of this company
that was planning to ruin me. It would be justice on them. One site I
looked at on the subterranean internet had the intriguing message 'Want to
become someone else? Contact us.' Over the next couple of days I exchanged
messages with a person on the other end of the net. What they promised was
to transform you, including your looks and even your fingerprints, and then
set you up with all the documents and history of another person so that you
could live quite openly as that person. Guaranteed. For an extra fee they
would attempt to make it look as if your current persona had died in an
accident. What gave their story additional credence was the fact that they
did not promise that the second aspect would succeed as they said it was
very difficult. But they assured me that they would use their best
endeavours to make it happen.
My self-imposed deadline - which was a week after I received the document -
was getting close. So I told them I was interested and asked them the
price. The message came back. Ten million US dollars. If I wished to
accept, I was to go to a pre-arranged place. There I would transfer half
the money to them. I would then disappear for 6 months. At the end I would
be someone completely different and would pay them the balance of the
money. I looked at this message for nearly an hour. Then I took a deep
breath and said 'yes'.
The details were sorted out fairly quickly. I sent them a few photographs
and details of my physical characteristics. I told them that I had been
called back to London - presumably to fire me - and would be flying out two
days later. I had to change planes at Amsterdam's Schiphol airport to fly
to London. They told me to leave the airport rather than change
planes. Then I must go up to the main concourse and outside and wait at the
number 12 bus stop. Someone would come and ask me if my name was John. I
was to reply, 'well it is now'. And they would take it from there.
I spent the next 24 hours setting up my theft. It was near the end of a
quarter and I was able to move nearly 70 million dollars through a
labyrinth of channels and into a number of accounts I had set up. I
estimated that as it was already the weekend in London, that I would have
nearly 2 days before anyone noticed the money was missing, and probably
another day before it was attributed to me. Stage one was complete. There
was no going back. I had been told to make sure that I brought all the
identification I could - presumably to help with my disappearance - but
otherwise to take what I would normally carry on such a trip. So I took my
usual small suitcase, that fitted into the overhead lockers on the plane,
and my laptop.
Although it was a long flight, I did not sleep very much. Maybe that was as
well. When I presented my passport at Schiphol the guy looked at me and
asked if I was alright. I was nervous and guess I looked a bit shifty. "I
can't sleep on planes. I am just tired," I said. He gave me back my
passport and I was soon standing at bus stop 12.
After a couple of minutes a man came and stood behind me. I wondered if he
was my contact. He was fairly tall and certainly a little bit taller than
me. He had mid brown hair and brown eyes and was wearing an expensive
suit. He was probably in his early 30's. I looked at him waiting for the
question. But he just looked back at me. So I turned away. A BMW car with
dark tinted windows drove up to the stop. The man behind me whispered in my
ear 'Are you John?'
"Well I am now," I replied and he leant forward and opened the back door of
the car. He shoved me to get in and then got in himself. There was a
darkened glass partition inside the car so that I could not see who was in
the front. As the car drove off, the guy next to me pushed my head against
the window and plunged a hypodermic syringe into my neck. I was soon out
cold.
I awoke, lying on a bed, in a windowless room. I learnt that it was a full
day later. I was naked. The guy from the bus stop was sitting on a chair
reading. He looked up and noticed that I was awake and came over. He was
smiling and held his hand out. "Call me Max," he said. "First things
first. You need to give us 5 million US dollars." He handed me my own
laptop. I started it up. He gave me the details of the account that the
money was to be transferred to. The money was swiftly moved from one of my
accounts to theirs. The man's 'phone buzzed and he looked at the
message. "Very good. We have the money. Would you like something to drink?"
he asked.
"Coffee would be nice," I replied. He went into another room and came back
with 2 mugs which he put down on the table near where he had been
sitting. He looked at me. I did not move.
"I suggest you come and drink it here. We will be more comfortable. I know
you have no clothes on, but as it was me that stripped you, I know what,
shall we say, you look like." I got out of bed and went and sat opposite
him. He was still smiling.
"This is where you will live for about the next 6 months. You will not be
allowed to leave until we have completed our task. But there is everything
you could need here, so I think you will be comfortable."
"You mean I am your prisoner?"
"No, no, no. When I said you could not leave, I meant you cannot leave if
you want us to complete your metamorphosis into another person. But if at
any point you wish us to stop, then just tell me. You can pay me the rest
of the money and we will take you wherever you want to go. You will then be
on your own. But while we are creating your new identity you must do as we
say and that means you must stay here. Do you understand? We have plenty of
experience of giving people new personas. So you should trust us."
"Yes I understand. Where are we? What happens next?"
"We are in an eastern suburb of Berlin. We are currently putting into
action a plan that we sincerely hope will persuade the world that you are
dead. I would say that we succeed completely in about half of the attempts
we make. And in about a third of the cases there is some dispute as to
whether the person is dead or not. It is in a comparatively small number
where we fail and the world knows that the death was a fake. So the odds
are on your side." Max picked up a folder from the table while I drank some
coffee. He got out a number of photographs which he placed on the table in
front of me. They were all of the same man. A couple were just face and
head shots. One showed him standing in what looked like a garden, and
another showed him astride a BMW motorbike wearing a red white and blue one
piece leather suit. In the last photo he had a broad grin on his face.
"This is who you will become. His name - your name - is Johannes Dieper."
"But I look nothing like him. He has blond hair. He looks as if he is
taller than me. He is far more muscular. Who is he?" I looked at the
photo's again. "You did not kill him did you?"
"No we did not kill him or anyone else. We are not murderers. In a sense
Johannes Dieper does not exist. The old East German state made detailed
plans for how they would infiltrate their spies into the west for many
years into the future. They therefore created full biographies for people
that did not exist. Every year they created phantom births and medical
records and school records for children, which they kept up to date. And,
through the years, everything else about a person, so that anyone who
looked into their history would find detailed information that was created
at the time it was supposed to have happened. And when the new united
Germany was created these people automatically became citizens of the new
country. My Father worked for the old East Germany and he took a number of
these 'legends' for his pension. He kept them going throughout the
years. The photographs were created by clever use of computer graphics, to
allow us to apply for various official documents, such as driving
licenses. Then when someone like you comes along and we have found a body
that will become the real person, the legend takes his physical place in
society. I took over from my Father when he died.
"It is true that there are some significant differences between the old you
and Johannes. I will be honest with you. There were only so many legends
remaining and it is the closest match we have. But that is both a problem
and a benefit. If you want to disappear completely, it is far better for
your appearance to differ markedly from your old self. It then becomes
practically impossible that anyone will recognise you. But it does mean we
have much difficult work to do to make you look like him. But we are
skilled at what we do, and as I said on the website, we guarantee the
transformation. None of the many people who have passed through our hands
have had any problems. There will be much to do and we will start
tomorrow."
He showed me around what I suppose you could call an apartment, except that
it had no windows. He told me that it was underground. There was a small
kitchen and bathroom as well as the bed sitting room. It was well
provisioned and I had access to television and radio and I could surf the
net, although I could not send any messages out. But there were no
clothes. Max told me that I would remain naked for the time being. He said
that it would help with the healing process although I suspected that his
main reason was that it would make it harder for me if I decided to leave
without paying the rest of the money. He left me at about 5.00pm - I had
found a clock - and I prepared something to eat and sat down to watch the
television. Although I had some basic school German I chose BBC world. I
was watching a news bulletin when my picture appeared on the screen. The
caption said "British Banker in £100 million fraud dies in car
crusher". The news reader went on to say that the remains of my body had
been found inside an old Toyota, in a car crusher in France. A policeman
was interviewed who gave scant details of my crime and said that they
believed that I had been double crossed and murdered by my criminal
associates, who they were still trying to identify. I turned the television
off. So my employers were exaggerating how much I had stolen. I guessed
that they were going to try to hide other losses in my crime. They were
clearly as dishonest as I was. I went to bed early and slept fitfully.
Max arrived early the next morning. "Did you kill that man they found in
the crusher?" I asked.
"I have explained to you that we are not killers."
"Then who was he? How did he die?"
"Are you sure you want to know?" I nodded. "We dug up a recently buried
body that broadly fitted your description. With some carefully planted
documents and some of your blood - which we took while you were unconscious
- we staged your death. So far it seems to be working. The French can be
very sloppy with the death of foreigners which is why we chose to have you
crushed to death in that country." I must have gone a little pale. I
certainly felt a bit squeamish. "You asked to know, and our crime is no
worse than yours. If I had known you had stolen so much, I might have asked
for more." He smiled at me.
"I stole less than 70 million US dollars. My employers - or maybe the
police - are lying."
"Well it doesn't matter. I am happy with ten. We have much to do. The first
stage will be some plastic surgery. I am afraid it will be painful. Do you
want me to go into details?" This time I decided I would rather not know
and shook my head.
Max took me into a room that had been locked when he showed me the
apartment. It was a mini operating theatre. I lay down on the table as I
heard others come through the front door. A few minutes later two men
entered the theatre. They both had on gowns and masks so that I could not
see their faces. They said nothing but one anesthetised me and I was soon
dead to the world.
I woke up back in bed. Max was looking at me as I opened my eyes. "Do not
try to speak. Your jaw is wired up. Johannes has a much squarer jaw so we
had to reconstruct yours. We have also changed the shape of your eyes and
made your nose a little smaller. And various other things to your face. We
have changed your fingerprints. That was a trick that the old Nazi's
perfected after the war. Oh and we have circumcised you." I must have
looked alarmed. "According to Johannes's medical records he was
circumcised. So you have to be. We are perfectionists. You asked not be
told the details before the operation." He offered me some water and I took
a few sips through a plastic tube. I slept on and off for the next 36
hours. Max stayed the whole time and gave me pain killers when I asked for
them, and more sips of water. Every time I woke up my face felt as if it
was on fire.
It was two weeks before the stitches were removed and my jaw was
unwired. Max had told me that I must improve my German and learn my
personal history, and indeed the history and way of life of my newly
adopted country. He showed me how to put on a large helmet attached to a
computer that fed me images and sounds. He said it was the best way of
completely immersing myself in the new me. I spent long periods attached to
the machine. It took my mind off the pain I still felt and it gave me
something to do. As I said before, I have an active mind and like to keep
it busy. But it was not until my jaw was unwired that I could really
practise my German.
I described myself at the beginning of this account as average. The person
who looked back at me in the mirror once the stitches and wire were removed
was anything but average. My eyes were now more almond shaped. My cheek
bones seemed a little higher. My chin was now decidedly square jawed and my
lips seemed fuller. There was still some scaring and puffiness, but I did
not recognise the me that looked back. I was beginning to like Johannes. It
took me rather longer to get used to my new circumcised cock. For a couple
of weeks I sat down to piss. I also did not get the throbbing erection the
old me had had most mornings. I told Max about my concerns.
"Have you tried masturbating?" I shook my head. "No? Well I suggest you
do. When I have gone of course."
Once Max had left me alone, I went into the bathroom and started playing
with my cock. It soon became fat and erect. It was a different feeling as I
stroked it, slowly at first. But it was now three weeks since I had come. I
increased the pace and shot a lot of spunk into the sink. Well at least I
now knew that I still worked.
The next day I was back in the operating theatre. It was not necessary to
give me any aesthetic. All the hair was removed from my body - head, arms,
legs chest, crotch - all of it. I was then rubbed with a pungent smelling
solution. I was told to close my eyes, and to keep them closed, as a bright
light was shone on me. Then the same was done with my back. I do not know
how long I was under the lamp for. But eventually Max helped me to the
shower, as I could not see. I took a long shower as my eyes came back into
focus. As I dried myself I looked at my hairless head and face. I looked
away quickly. I noticed Max standing in the doorway. "Your hair will start
to grow again quite quickly and you will be a permanent and natural
blond. I promise."
"You could make a fortune with this on the beauty market," I said.
"Not really. A one off treatment is not what that type of market wants. It
wants lots of repeat custom. It is much more profitable. And anyway this is
another secret of East Germany that I am not inclined to share."
"Is it safe?"
"We think so. But life is a risk. You must have known that when you stole
so much money."
We went back into the bed sitting room and had some coffee. "I think that
you will not need any more surgery. Although we can only be sure of that
when everything is completely healed. But if you do, it will only be minor
nips and tucks. But there is one more thing that we must do. You noticed
that Johannes is taller than you. Actually it is only one and half
centimetres. But we will need to stretch you. For the next week or so, you
will have to spend several hours each day in a contraption that will make
you that little bit taller. I am told that it is unpleasant rather than
painful. You will be able to continue with your studies while on the rack."
He laughed at what he must have thought was a good joke! And that is what
happened. I would call it painful rather than unpleasant. But I tried to
concentrate on my lessons. After 9 days, Max was happy that I was the
correct height. With my blond hair now growing, my face and head really
looked like the Johannes in the photo's.
It was at that time that Max began to speak to me only in German and would
only accept me speaking to him in German. He did not forbid me to watch
English language television, but urged me not to. He said that he was
fulfilling his part of the contract and I had to work hard to fulfil mine
if we were to have complete success.
After my time on the rack, he told me I had to go on an intensive exercise
routine to improve my body to look like the Johannes in the photos. So he
took me through two 90 minute exercise sessions a day. (The operating
theatre was converted into a makeshift gym). He would then give me a
massage and I would lie under a sun lamp as I was going pale from lack of
sunlight. Day by day my body improved and Mr Average became Mr Alpha Male,
courtesy of the East German Secret Service - and of Max of course. I
continued with my studies, although it seemed to me that they kept changing
in some small way that I could never quite put my finger on.
I had now been in this cocoon for 4 months and was over half way to growing
my wings and flying away. I was eating breakfast - mainly fresh fruit for
the health conscious Johannes - when Max arrived with another guy of about
my age. He was tall and dark haired and I knew him, although I could not
think from where. He looked at me, as if he recognised me as well. He
seemed to exude a power that I found a little in intimidating. I stood up
to shake his proffered hand and together we both noticed that I had a
monster erection. I seized my hand back and tried to cover my
embarrassment.
"I am sorry. I don't know what happened. Can't I have some clothes Max?"
"Please let's all sit down," Max said. "This is Dieter. He is your
partner."
"Partner? What do you mean?" And then I remembered where I knew him from
and why I had got the erection. I had seen him in the mask and he had been
fucking me. "What the hell have you done to me?".
Max looked embarrassed. "While I have not actually lied to you, I have not
told you the whole truth. The East Germans trusted no one - not even their
own spies - and maybe not even themselves. So they teamed people together
to watch one another. These could be a man and a woman or two women - or,
as in Johannes's case - two men. We have been conditioning you both to have
strong attractions for each other, so that at least when you set out on
your new life, you will be and act like a couple. If you get divorced....."
"We're married?"
"Yes. You married in Amsterdam 18 months ago. We have photographs of the
ceremony. The picture of you on the motorbike was just before you set off
on your honeymoon."
"Are you mad?"
"No, I don't think so. We promised to make you a new person and we will
deliver on that. My offer for you to leave remains open. But we are so
close to giving you freedom and the chance to enjoy your wealth, that it
would be a pity to give it up - not to mention 10 million US dollars - so
near success."
"You expect me to pay you another 5 million?"
"Yes you will as that is the terms of our contract. Please don't make me
threaten you."
"But who is Dieter?"
"He is another omission on my part. An organisation like ours cannot
operate completely under the radar of the authorities. To keep them happy,
and so that they help us maintain the fiction of the created identities, we
give some people they refer to us new personas. Dieter worked for the
intelligence authorities of the new state - the good guys. But his cover
was blown and he is now wanted by the bad guys. You can make up your own
mind as to who they are. So he needed to disappear and this is how he is
going to do it. As your partner. I would suggest that neither of you talk
about your previous lives even in private. You know your own new
history. Just live that, even with each other. I will leave you now to get
acquainted. There is no requirement for you to....well you know what. But
work on the basis that for the next year or 18 months you are
partners. When you are both established in your new lives in the open, it
will be up to you to decide how to go forward, be that together or
separate.
Max left, and Dieter and I sat and looked at each other for a few
minutes. Then Dieter asked "Do you remember our wedding? I do quite
clearly, although I know that is impossible."
"So do I. I remember driving to a hotel on the Belgian coast on our
matching motorbikes wearing matching leather one piece suits. I
remember.....I know Max said not to talk about the past but I must ask one
question. Was the old you gay?"
He nodded. "And I really want to go to bed with you. I don't know if that
is normal animal passions or whether it is part of the conditioning. Do you
feel anything? Your erection implies that you do?"
I stopped and thought for a moment. The old me would have said an instant
no, but my feelings were now rather more complex. "I don't know if this
makes any sense, but I would like to go to bed with you, Dieter, but I
don't really like the idea of going to bed with a man."
"Do you want to try? Max did not mention one thing to you. He thought it
might be better coming from me. I guess from what you say that you have
never been fucked. But Johannes certainly has been. It would be best if
your arse....well shall we say....looked the part."
"You mean you want to fuck me to stretch my hole?"
"Well we could do it with dildos and things if you really don't want to."
"Will it hurt much?"
"If you relax and trust me it won't be too bad. But yes it will hurt at
first I am afraid."
"Can you take your clothes off?"
Dieter got up and moved close to me. He removed his jacket and then took
off his tee shirt. He was as well muscled as I now was but had dark hair
all over his chest. I gasped as it looked so beautiful to me and I put my
hand out and stoked his torso. He smiled at me. He removed his boots and
socks followed by his jeans. He stood in front of me in just his white
briefs that were being tented by his cock. The look on his face told me
that I should pull his underwear down. I put my hands on each side of his
waist and hooked my fingers into the band on the top of his briefs. Then I
slowly pulled them down. His cock was dragged down by the material until it
was able to spring free. I was mesmerised by the long thick tool with the
circumcised helmet pointing at me. I think I must have licked my lips as
Dieter said "You can suck it if you want to."
I took his cock in my hand about half way down the shaft and moved my open
mouth to surround his cock head. I licked it with my tongue, but did not
take any more until he put his hands behind my head and encouraged me to
take more in my mouth. I did not resist until I felt it near the back of my
throat and I felt a gag coming on. I pulled my head off his tool and looked
up at him while still holding his cock in my hand. "I remember that going
down my throat, but that's not possible."
"I remember too. Deep throating is something I like to make you do to
me. It is possible and with practise you will swallow if for real." He
gently stoked the blond hair on my head.
"Dieter I am very scared about this, but half of me wants you to fuck
me. And if I am to be Johannes I have to know what it is like and be
comfortable with it. I want us to go to bed now and I want you to make love
to me as I remember you doing and I want you to fuck me. And if I try to
back out and tell you to stop, I want you to go the whole way, even if you
have to force me. More and more memories are coming to the surface and I
know you were always forceful in bed. We both liked it that way, I
think. Will you do it?"
He didn't reply, but he put his hands under my armpits and I stood up. He
moved his mouth towards mine and we kissed for both the first and the
millionth time. His tongue came into my mouth and joined mine in curling
around the other. He moved his hands from my head, obviously content that I
was not going to try to escape, and massaged the cheeks of my arse. I felt
a finger moved towards my hole. I broke our kiss. "No. I want the first
thing up there to be your cock and not your finger."
We went to the bedroom and I lay down and he got on top of me. I had
stopped thinking about how I was in bed with a man. I just gave myself up
to the moment and to this man. We kissed more and his hands went all over
my body causing ripples of pleasure to flood through me. My nipples became
very sensitive as he played with them and the more sensitive they became
the harder he was with them. But the pain felt good, as it did when he
squeezed my balls.
The foreplay must have lasted for 20 or 30 minutes and I was enjoying both
him and his body more and more, and certainly more than any woman I had
ever been with. Maybe it was because he was in control of me. Then he moved
back and knelt between my legs. He put my knees over his shoulders exposing
my arse. I felt the wetness of his cockhead at my entrance. He increased
the pressure and started to enter me. My channel felt full as he slowly
went in. I know that it hurt - and hurt a lot - but I felt quite relaxed as
I knew that I wanted this and that he wanted to make this good for me. It
was painful and it was glorious. I felt his heavy balls against my arse. He
was fully inside me. He moved down onto me so that we could kiss again as
he started leisurely to fuck me. The pain lessened as I felt the seed
rising in me. He increased his pace and like in so many memories when he
had fucked me before, we came at almost the same time. As our climaxes
ended, he kissed me one more time. Then he carefully extracted his penis
and rolled to lie alongside me.
"I think you enjoyed that," Dieter said. "It was just as I remember
it. Wonderful. The more we do it, the easier and better it will become for
you. And I have a big sexual appetite. I think I will fuck you at least
once a day. I know I can satisfy you completely."
He then looked at me and could see that there were tears rolling down my
cheek. "What's the matter? Did I hurt you too much?"
I looked him in the eye. "No. It is just that I know I love you with a
total passion and commitment. I want you to fuck me and fuck me hard every
day. Is that me or is it just conditioning?"
"Let us give ourselves the 18 month together out in the world, just as Max
suggested, to find out."